


tornadoed Atlantic of my being

by MissCatherineEarnshaw



Category: In the Heart of the Sea (2015)
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Canon Compliant, Gen, Introspection, Moby Dick reference, Whale harpooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCatherineEarnshaw/pseuds/MissCatherineEarnshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You feel the breeze of the ocean caressing your cheek,  the salty water on your skin,  as you row with  the crew, part of a whole as you've never been before you left the continent. It's an exhilarating sensation, more than the tempest ever could be, because back then you were scared out of your mind, and  now you're not, even if you probably should be.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	tornadoed Atlantic of my being

**Author's Note:**

> So I've watched this movie like five hours ago and I have got to say I'm kinda skeptical about the whole thing. Some images got stuck in my head and would not leave though, so I ended up writing this.
> 
> Title comes from Moby Dick, because I'm nothing if not original [joke]

* * *

 

You feel the breeze of the ocean caressing your cheek, the salty water on your skin, as you row with the crew, part of a whole as you've never been before you left the continent. It's an exhilarating sensation, more than the tempest ever could be, because back then you were scared out of your mind, and now you're not, even if you probably should be. You think _this is our element, this is were we're supposed to be_ , surrounded by these imposing creatures, which are scary but not that much, because you are the ones with the harpoon, you are the ones above.

You get dragged down at some point because the whale won't let you go, but it's fine, because the man always has the higher ground, hasn't he ? Soon, it's not only water but also blood staining your cheeks, and your mouth tastes copper as well as salt. It's both thrilling and sad, and you feel as if you've desecrated an idol, by hurting and killing the whale. There is an inherent violence in harpooning, a violence you failed to realize until now.

And then you end up in the guts of the whale, carving him so you extract the most of the grease, and it's only a pile of viscera and blood right now, nothing warranting admiration or distaste. You want to hurl so you don't give it much thoughts, but deep down you think _this is what utterly destroying something feels like._

 

(And you don't know it yet, but there is another thing you will carve, empty the flesh of, during this god-forsaken trip. You will close your eyes and try to forget every time treacherous images begin to creep in your mind, but it will be a knowledge ingrained in your very bones from now on, the sound a man makes when torn apart, the sickening feel of his slippery organs on your fingertips. And it will be awful how easy it will turn out to be, and how you won't be able to get the words _it's_ _only_ _retribution_ and _m_ _a_ _n really is not that great_ out of your head)

 

Several months later, you are the one being hunted – because you're part of a ship, of a crew you've grown to like in the past months. The white whale won't let the man defeat him. He escapes and does not relent – on the contrary, he seeks revenge, in a way you would have thought only men were entitled too. The creature is something of another world entirely. He is too big, too cunning, too exceptional to thread with you mortals. He looks like the very whale of Jonah's Story, or another mythical dark sea monster you've heard sailors whispering about, because it might be the ninetieth century but sailors are nothing if not superstitious. This beast is nothing a man can beat. And you're not a man – you're merely a boy, who got caught up in something bigger than him. Chase, first name in title only, because everyone on this ship knows he is the true ruler of the Essex, _is_ a man, all golden locks and righteous fury, both able to inspire the crew and to give a hand to keep the ship afloat. If there is a man who should be able to harm, to kill the whale, it's him.

He never gets to though . He lets this ship-wrecker, this murderous creature escape - you can see the whale passing by and gliding away, disappearing in the green-blue depths. The sun is heavy on your eyelids and the whole moment has such a dreamlike quality that, many months later, you will wonder if it really happened or if it was a mere figment of your imagination.

You are not interested in knowing for sure.

 


End file.
